


A Meeting Of Souls

by enjolras_lexa



Series: Flowershop ‘Verse [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Dating, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, in a celestial way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolras_lexa/pseuds/enjolras_lexa
Summary: In which the Ineffable Co-shop-owners become Ineffable Friends and progress towards Ineffable Boyfriend-ness (alternately, a sequel to Safety in Falsehood).title paraphrased from Bare





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to do a bit more showing them getting to know each other (considering they don’t have 6k+ years together in this ‘verse) so here’s your sequel, if you like that sort of thing! 
> 
> *rating may change  
> **not sure how many chapters this will have  
> ***going to involve other characters at some point but still figuring out the plot  
> ****author has very little idea where he’s going with this

Crowley smiled fondly at Aziraphale. This was known to happen quite often these days, but on this particular occasion there was a reason.

They were in the shop, which was usual for them, but over the past few weeks it had changed a great deal since Az had first started working there. Aziraphale had begun to really enjoy helping to run a shop since he was less possessive over the plants than he had been over his books (every plant, amphibian, and reptile did get a name however), but he’d missed his little bookshop all the more because of it. 

“Why didn’t you just miracle it better?” Crowley had asked him earlier.

He’d finally gotten the story of how the shop had burned down, a tale involving a witchfinder, a portal to heaven, and a large number of very pissed-off angels and archangels. The demon mostly used the anecdote to make jokes along the lines of “don’t burn down the shop while I’m gone, angel” and the like. It was most amusing (to him).

“ _Much_ too big a job,” Az had replied, scandalized, “Heaven never would have sanctioned a miracle that extensive! There would’ve been paperwork! I would’ve needed to go back in time! No no, I’m afraid the shop is gone for good.”

Crowley had thought it over and contemplated and pondered and done some drinking and just generally berated himself for getting so smitten so quickly, but wound up offering all the same: “Y’know you could put a few bookshelves in here if you like.”

“Crowley, that’s a splendid idea!” The angel looked much too pleased with himself.

In the end Az set up a little lending library along the lines of “take a book, leave a book” that actually increased business for the shop, and kept the rest of his quickly-accumulating collection in his flat. This arrangement ended with Crowley somehow agreeing to let him keep fifty or so books in his own flat, a number which didn’t stay small for long. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to deny Az anything however, he was convinced it was some sinisterly angelic power of persuasion. So now Crowley basically lived in a bookshop. At least Az popped in regularly to borrow them.

But yes, he was smiling fondly at Aziraphale, this time because the angel had finally gotten brave enough to feed the snakes (after a long lecture and tutorial from Crowley, who didn’t let just anyone touch his ~~family~~ cargo even if he was head over heels for him. Also Crowley strictly forbade baby talk, which Az got away with around the plants but the demon simply wouldn’t have it around the reptiles.).

It was strangely nice to see him talk to the snakes while he gave them their supper. It was like watching someone else have their hair played with (and Crowley most certainly did NOT have a hair kink, thankyouverymuch. He simply liked having it being touched in a completely non-sexual normal platonic way. Shuttup). But yes, Az was fond of things like books and plants and now snakes, and Crowley had begun to be quite fond of him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m having fun with this :)

Aziraphale smiled fondly at Crowley.

He wasn’t altogether aware of it.

They were at his flat on opposite ends of the sofa, watching a movie, having just gossiped about the different customers that had come into the shop that day. Their wings were out, as was their habit now that they weren’t hiding from each other anymore. Az didn’t altogether like Crowley’s flat, it reminded him a bit too much of Heaven. It was so bare, and so perfectly painfully clean.

Of course, Az thought with a pang, he’d made Crowley adopt what could only be described as a fuck-tonne of books. They were lovely but they did take up so much space. Poor demon must be beyond irritated with him by now.

Crowley was on the verge of falling asleep, not one of Aziraphale’s favourite human vices, but Crowley seemed to enjoy it.

The demon usually sprawled over every bit of furniture he sat on, taking up as much space as demonically possible, but here he was curled up in a ball of lanky limbs like a folded-up umbrella, tucked in under a fuzzy black blanket. His chin was resting on his crossed arms atop his bent knees, his sunglasses were slipping off the end of his nose, and Az leaned over to remove them so they wouldn’t fall and break. He slipped them into Crowley’s jacket pocket, for safekeeping.

“Mhmmh wass goin’ on?” Crowley mumbled, not opening his eyes.

It was a shame, Az thought. They were really quite pretty.

“Go back to sleep,” Az whispered. There were perks to being an angel. “You will sleep soundly, and wake up having had a dream about whatever it is you like best.”

Crowley let himself fall deeper into the comfortable cushions. Az smoothed a stray bit of cropped spiky auburn hair that had fallen onto Crowley’s forehead. It was soft.

Aziraphale liked Crowley. He could admit that much.

He hadn’t liked him at first at all, what with his unfair abuse of plants (though Az and Evelyn the geranium had bonded because of it) and his horrible driving, not to mention that he was just sort of unpleasant to be around. Of course, Aziraphale had been judging him by human standards. By demon standards, Az supposed Crowley was really (deep down) quite nice.

Since their mutual finding-out-about-each-other’s-status-as-an-immortal-being ....type.....thing (Az wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it), things had been different between them. On their first date for instance, they’d both thought the other was human. It was a bit ridiculous how much time they’d wasted.

It was ridiculous that they hadn’t met sooner. They must’ve passed right by each other for ages, it was a big world of course and there were lots of people in it. They must’ve danced around each other for six thousand years, never knowing their counterpart was right there all along. Although, seeing Crowley like this here, perhaps the Almighty knew what she was doing after all.

Az had since confessed to Crowley how sad he’d been, thinking about how Crowley could die in a car crash (which would be the likeliest scenario) and he’d have to get on without him. All his human loves were dead now, after all. Crowley had said much the same, immortals must of course outlive any human friends they made. As an angel it was inevitable. But now they were in the same boat, and Az wasn’t quite sure of what to do.By anyone’s reckoning, it was his turn to ask Crowley on a date.

Crowley had asked him to lunch, perhaps Az could ask him to have dinner? But Crowley didn’t like to eat. Maybe they should do something more creative, wouldn’t Crowley expect more from him now?

It was settled, Az would ask him out.

Az gave a heavy sigh. Nothing was settled at all.

If Aziraphale even wanted to ask him at all, which he still couldn’t make up his mind about. And if Crowley still liked him. It wasn’t unreasonable to think Crowley might have changed his mind, they were an _angel_ and a _demon_ after all. Polar opposites. Hereditary enemies. What if Crowley didn’t want him that way anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do, do it with style.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there angels and demons! Thanks for the support thus far! I made a long-ish-sorta chapter are you proud?

“Oh _Satan_ ,” Crowley muttered.

It had not been a good day. Not in the slightest.

He’d had to throw away three plants (to the consternation of Aziraphale), he’d gotten horribly stuck in traffic, and he’d had to rescue a corn snake from negligent owners who were trying to abandon it across the street from Crowley’s flat (his name was Alastor and they were friends now but that was beside the point). And the Bentley was looking like it wanted a tune-up, demonic miracles did the job but they were a poor substitute for a proper mechanic.

Az had seemed like he had something on his mind all morning so Crowley suggested he go off to get lunch while he kept up the shop; Crowley would miss him but he wanted to be left alone today. Which was the reason for his foul mood: Hell didn’t seem to have taken the hint.

He put on the façade he saved for such occasions, rolling his hips as he approached the unwanted guests and flashing them a lazy grin. “Hastur! Ligur! What a horrifying surprise!” Crowley adjusted his sunglasses and pasted on a big fake smile. “To what do I owe the displeasure of the company of Dukes of Hell?”

“We’ve received intel that a mortal has inserted itself into your….establishment,” Ligur delivered the message bluntly. “Lord Beelzebub has asked if you require backup to dispose of it or if you can manage it yourself.”

Hastur smirked nastily. “Of course Master Crowley, Duke of Earth, doesn’t need little old us does he?”

Crowley opened his mouth, then shut it again. He kept his expression neutral. _Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not consorting with a mortal, I’m consorting with the angel I’m head over heels for whose literal mission in life is to spread goodness. Just thought I’d run it past you lot before I let him do all manner of unspeakable acts to me, not a problem is it?_ “Ah yes the mortal. Hired help, need to delegate the boring little duties about the shop so I can wreak some havoc around Greater London. I’ve got a cursing scheduled today around three-ish, y’know how it is.”

“Oh yes, of course, leave the mortal work to the mortals.” Hastur attempted a weak joke.

Crowley gave a confiding, ‘we’re all on the same side here’ conspiratorial look. He hoped. “I hate to be a drag, break up the reunion, but I can sense some sort of blessing going on at the church down the road. You wouldn’t mind if I did my job and push a few old ladies down the steps?”

“Wouldn’t dream of holding you up, or nightmare of it I suppose.” Ligur ran his tongue across his sharp teeth. The lizard on top of his head eyed Crowley balefully. It was the only reptile he’d ever met who didn’t like him (the distaste was mutual).

“See ya in hell!” Crowley called after as the demons exited the shop, waving apologetically to a human passerby who’d overheard.

Crowley sauntered back to his chair when he heard a polite cough. “Az?”

He turned to find three angels materialized behind him. They weren’t showing their wings, but the light coming off of them gave it away. Heaven. It made Crowley wonder again how he hadn’t recognized Aziraphale from the start, perhaps the angel had been down on Earth too long?

“Demons are easy enough to fool, but we angels are a bit cleverer.” An angel with short dark hair and skin smiled at him coolly. The beautiful gold markings on her face shimmered in and out of visibility in the sunlight; mortals wouldn’t be able to see them of course. “Uriel, and you are…?”

“Master Crowley, demon, as I’m sure you’re aware.” He extended his hand, but Uriel made no move to take it.

The little angel with red hair and silver markings on his face standing next to her shook it instead, giving Crowley a warm kindly smile that reminded him of Aziraphale. Crowley smiled back, unsure but feeling instinctively that he could be trusted. Few angels were civil to demons, let alone showed any sign of genuine kindness.

“Crowley,” the third angel pronounced carefully. His gelled-back hair gave off the unpleasant scent of hairspray and bad cologne. “I know who you are.” The kind angel looked at him curiously, but if Uriel was surprised she didn’t show it.

“And you are…?”

“The Archangel Gabriel.” His smile was oily as he flaunted his title.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, recognizing him. He’d put on some weight since Creation. “Oh right. Been a long time.”

“It has at that. How the mighty have Fallen.” He laughed unpleasantly at his own joke. Crowley just barely managed to hold back his anger.

The little angel looked uncomfortable. “That was unkind sir, if you forgive my saying so.” He fidgeted with the hem of his jacket nervously. “We’re here to see-”

“Crowley?” It was Az, who’d just come in the door of the shop. “Gabriel, Uriel.” He assumed his nervous little ‘work smile’. Crowley hated it, _hated_ how scared he looked.

The little redheaded angel trotted over to shake his hand. “You must be the Principality Aziraphale, sorry to intrude.”

“Sorry, who are you?” Az looked taken aback.

“Anael,” he introduced himself. “Just been promoted actually! Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh- um- likewise.” Aziraphale turned to Gabriel. “I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”

“We didn’t, surprise check-up,” Gabriel said lightly. “I didn’t realize you and the demon were-”

“Co-workers?” Az finished hurriedly. “My bookshop burned down, remember? Thought it would be preferable to keep an eye on the opposition rather than risk close contact with a mortal.”

“Oh really? Hope we’re not blowing your cover.” Uriel’s voice dripped sarcasm.

Crowley decided to jump in. “Double agent, but don’t tell Hell.”

“Oh lovely!” Anael exclaimed. “See, a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Shall we?” Uriel gestured upwards. “Earth is boring me already, and I’ve got work to do topside.”

“Agreed,” said Gabriel. He and Uriel vanished in a flash of light without so much as a goodbye. 

“We’ll be in touch shortly,” Anael said with a smile and a quick glance at Crowley. “He’s rather handsome you know,” he stage-whispered to Aziraphale, winking at Crowley when both the angel and the demon blushed. Anael vanished into light with a little wave. 

Aziraphale groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. 

“It’s been a day, hasn’t it?” Crowley sympathized. He tossed his sunglasses onto the counter and magically flipped the sign to ‘closed’. Hopefully it would keep celestial and hellish influences out for the rest of the afternoon. “Had a chat with my side earlier.”

“Oh? Should we be worried?”

“Very, they think you’re a human I’m corrupting.”

Az snickered. “Well now my side’s taken care of as well. Your place?”

“Certainly,” the ex-Archangel agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a lil OC do you love him or what?!  
> Anael - angel influencing love, passion and sexuality. ( [source](http://www.angelsghosts.com/angel_names) )
> 
> [message me on tumblr if you want](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/enjolras-lexa)


	4. Chapter 4

Aziraphale blinked ten times in rapid succession. “ _What_?”

It was a clear, cool night in London and the stars were just beginning to appear. They were in Crowley’s flat, Aziraphale with a rice dish he’d whipped up and Crowley with a cup of coffee (with lots of cream and about six and a half spoonfuls of sugar), and had been listening to music (the soundtrack to Hadestown, which they were both currently obsessed with). It was a normal, Earthly evening, to make up for the abnormal, occult-slash-ethereal (and very vexing) afternoon they’d had. Seeing as Az had just finished his extensive character analysis of Hermes (the objective observer would’ve noted Crowley’s bemused-slash-fond expression, even if the angel didn’t), Crowley’s words were out of the blue.

Az had thought Crowley seemed particularly exhausted seeing as he’d dealt with the Dukes of Hell before the angels had shown up. He’d seemed especially irritated by Gabriel’s presence, but when Aziraphale had tried to ask him about it the demon had just brushed him off. Privately the angel couldn’t blame him for loathing Gabriel on sight but it had seemed a touch more personal than that.

However, now Az was properly flummoxed for another reason altogether. “ _What_?” 

“We never had that second date,” the demon repeated. “I just- y’know, stuff happened. We found out about each other, and then with the shop- Well. I just wondered if it was something you still wanted to….er….try. Maybe.”

“I- well you see- um-,” the angel sighed heavily. Why was he so bad at this? “I was going to ask you.”

“Oh!” Crowley laughed. He seemed relieved. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes!” Az said hurriedly. He tried not to think of what Anael had said earlier, and shifted his chair away from Crowley’s. “I just- has anything changed for you? We’re on opposite sides now, this isn’t going to be simple. And we’ve only just met, we hardly know each other, we’ve only kissed _once_ \- I just wanted to get an idea of what you were expecting from me.”

“Whatever you’re willing to give,” Crowley said softly, in a voice and with a look that made thoughts like _Too soon, too much, too fast, God I like him,_ race through Aziraphale’s head one after the other. He felt feverish. He simultaneously wanted to kiss the demon senseless and run away screaming. 

“I mean,” the demon added, casually putting his sunglasses on, “Just lunch again would be fine with me. I’m a bit set in my ways but I could probably manage a soup or something. Get to know each other, whatever angel. And there’s no reason for either of our sides to have to know. I know my side wouldn’t like it at all.”

“I suppose not,” Az said doubtfully. “They wouldn’t _need_ to know, it’s inconvenient but not impossible. For hell’s sake, dating is the absolute worst.”

“I agree completely.” Crowley refilled his coffee cup with a wave of his hand. “Hell might’ve actually invented it, come to think. All that nervous energy and sexual tension and screw-ups, they feed on that down there. But yeah, let’s just see what happens. We’ve got eternity, we can afford to take it slow. Could always just be friends if the spark isn’t there.”

Az couldn’t think of anything worse, but Crowley didn’t seem to mind much. Az tried not to let his disappointment show. “Of course. Friends. If it’s not there it’s not there I suppose. Right-ho. Second date, lunch, how about tomorrow?” _Too eager?_

“Works for me,” the demon agreed with a shrug. “Coffee for you? Oh no I remember it’s tea you like. Earl Grey, no sugar, bit of milk?”

Az nodded gratefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You guys are great <3  
> Also all the comments thus far are super super nice so tysm! Needed that today <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks to all for being lovely as usual ❤️

Crowley had spent the morning shouting at houseplants and working up the nerve to kick over the stacks of books that lay everywhere before deciding not to risk it. Aziraphale would know. A tiny, ridiculous part of the demon hoped that the books wouldn’t tell on him, he knew Az hated it when he took things out on the aggressively perfect plants (or as Az called them, ‘the poor darlings’. Spoiled brats.).

Now the demon paced nervously around his flat, waiting for it to be time to leave. Gabriel’s words still echoed inside his head, infuriating him, driving him mad.

_“How the mighty have Fallen.”_

“ARGHHHHH!” He smashed a glass vase on the black tile kitchen floor. It shattered.

He breathed deeply. His heartbeat raced, the blood pounded in his ears. Everything that kept his human body alive. His wings itched and burned underneath his skin.

The phone rang and the machine picked up.

“Crowley here: you know what to do, do it with style.”

“Hello dear, just about to leave. Are you on your way? We’re meeting there, right?”

Crowley picked up. “Yep, just be a minute. You go on ahead.”

“Right-ho.”

Crowley shook his head fondly. “Tickety-boo.”

He cleaned up the pieces of glass and with a snap of his fingers they jumped back into their place.

Crowley grabbed his sunglasses from his bedside table and, after a moment’s hesitation, the small plant sitting next to them, and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

He materialized outside the posh restaurant, sauntering in and spotting Az already at a table and checking his watch with a miffed expression on his face. “Waiting for me, angel?”

“Crowley!” Az’s head snapped up. “Almost didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Just had to sort out a few things. Did you order?”

“Just drinks.” Az handed him a menu, which Crowley didn’t bother looking at. “What’s that?”

“Oh.” Crowley’d almost forgotten. He set it down on their table. “Cactus? Dunno, thought you’d like it. It wasn’t selling anyway, and it’s little enough to fit in your flat I thought.”

“It’s so cute!” Aziraphale smiled at the miniature plant. “I don’t recognize it. It’s from the shop?”

 _Shitshitshit of course he knows them all by name-_ “I think it was in one of the back rooms. They don’t need much watering.” He hastily changed the subject. “Anyhow. Hear anything from your side?”

“Not a peep,” Az shook his head. “Yours? You seemed bothered yesterday.”

 _Just sickened by Archangel Greasy-hair. Smug little bastard._ “Angels and demons don’t mix, they’re a bit off-putting with all that Heavenly Light and such, no offence and present-company-excluded and all that,” the demon said coolly. 

“None taken.” Az’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something more, but just then the waitress appeared.

“Hello, here we go, one red wine and one whisky, what can I get for you two in the way of food?” Her name tag read Māra in small black lettering.

“I think some lobster, with a garden salad and-“ Az looked questioningly, but Crowley just gestured at him to keep going with a lazy wave of his hand. “I suppose a grilled cheese sandwich with garlic and your mushroom-oyster stew for my- er, my friend here? With appetizers to share I think.”

Māra scribbled it down rapidly. “Alright, back in a bit, let me know if you’d like anything else.”

“Never eaten an oyster,” Crowley commented when she’d left.

Az looked shocked. “Well let me tempt you- oh no, that’s your job, isn’t it?”

Crowley gave a low laugh. He sipped his wine luxuriously, savouring the taste. “It’s good, I think almost as good as yours.”

“It is mine. I miracled a cask of it into their cellar.”

Az and Crowley chuckled, then the angel added, “I still think you seemed bothered yesterday. Sorry about them, I didn’t ask them to show up, especially not at the shop. We do regular check-ins of course, as routine, but Gabriel does drop in unannounced sometimes. I suppose they were looking for me.”

“Not exactly.” Crowley huffed. “I’m- I know, or rather I used to know Gabriel. I think you mentioned him before we found everything out, but I didn’t put two and two together.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows did something peculiar. “When? How?” spluttered the angel.

“Long time ago. Before I fell.” Crowley took a swig more of wine, then stole a gulp of Az’s whisky for good measure. “We used to work together, I was an Archangel. Before, well you know. Before I went down like a lead balloon.”

“Were you really?” Az didn’t seem shocked, just surprised. Crowley tried to analyze his expression. It was bad enough he was a demon, Az didn’t need to know the full extent of his literal fall from grace, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He almost seemed impressed by his old rank, Crowley’d forgotten how much they harp on about stuff like that up there. “You never said anything before.”

Crowley plunked his head down onto his crossed arms, letting his forehead bang on the table and soliciting a few odd looks from the other customers. “Hang Gabriel. Stupid little bugger,” said a muffled voice. “He’s so smug, he was always the suck-up. Got my job when I fell.”

He felt hands on his head, combing through his newly short and excessively styled hair. It was soothing. “You’ll mess it up,” he chided sharply. 

“Sorry,” Az said gently, but he didn’t pull away. Crowley didn’t mind.

*****

A pretty young woman spoke on the phone in hushed tones. “Of course it’s me, who else would it be. Listen, Master Crowley and the angel are getting too close. Want me to take care of it?” She listened for a moment. There was an odd buzzing coming from her mobile phone. “Fine, let’s wait. See how it plays out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mara the OC number two!](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mara_\(demon\))
> 
> [ask me stuff on tumblr if you like?](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/enjolras-lexa)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos/comments would be appreciated 😘


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning is a bit...adult...if you prefer to skip that sort of thing.

Aziraphale shuddered pleasantly. “ _Crowley_.”

His voice came out like a breathy whisper, needy and desperate and _almost there._

“Crowley. Crowley.” He shifted his hips upwards. “ _Fuck_ , Crowley. Please, _please_ love.”

He chanced a glance at the form resting on the lower half of his body, all spiky red hair and lanky limbs and tempting hips and golden eyes for once unobscured by sunglasses that peeked up at him prettily through long reddish-brown eyelashes. “Ssssshh, angel. _Relax_.” 

He watched as the demon crawled back up Az’s body and gave him a kiss on the forehead, then the jaw. Az sighed involuntarily. Crowley’s mouth was wet and almost cool, a pleasant relief that soothed his flushed skin. He felt feverish.

“Let me take care of you, I can do that much at least. Let me be useful, please.” His voice sounded warped with need, desperate, almost as desperate as the angel was himself. Az could tell he’d been touching himself while taking the angel in his mouth. He wished they were in a position where he could watch, if he couldn’t touch. “ _Please_ angel.”

Az nodded breathlessly and let his head fall back against the pillow, letting out another loud moan as he writhed under Crowley’s touch and mouth and tongue, a moan so loud it unfortunately woke him up.

“Bu- ah.” He sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp to find he was indeed alone, and....well. Hard. Almost painfully so.

He switched the lamp off and flopped back down. It wasn’t the first dream like that he’d had in thousands of years of life, far from it. He was a grown-up, after all. Wasn’t even the first about Crowley. It had felt different though, more vivid and much more disappointing when he woke up to find himself alone after all.

He needed to get himself under control. He was an angel for everything’s sake.

They’d only had two dates, _still_ hadn’t kissed since their first date, which had been weeks and weeks ago, and were still getting to know each other. They shouldn’t rush into anything. They would take their time, if Az had any say in the matter.

For example, Aziraphale knew what Crowley drank (anything alcoholic) versus what he liked to drink (red wine, coffee, and occasionally fruit juices), what he could be persuaded to eat, when he’d had a bad day, when he needed Az to touch his hair or his hand or shoulder. That he said he didn’t read, but did quite like P. G. Wodehouse and _The Wind in the Willows_ (homey, comfort books, while Az liked murder mystery, excitement and adventure. Az supposed that it said a lot about what attracted them.)

He drove fast and erratically, but he was in his own way rather careful and would never put anyone in actual danger (just extreme fear). He liked chaotic scratchy violin music and Velvet Underground and _Rent_. He’d binge-watched Downton Abbey and got attached to all the characters on _Game of Thrones_ (and was thus frequently upset over fictional characters). Crowley was a demon, but both his flat and his shop were fastidiously organized and clean to the point of being sterile. He got upset when Az moved something or left his coat on the chair, or spoke kindly to the plants.

On the other hand, Crowley called the miscellaneous reptile menagerie ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’, it had gotten to the point of making Az wonder if Crowley was intentionally trying to make him jealous, if not for the fact that Crowley only did it when he was alone (or thought he was).

Crowley got motion sick whenever anybody else drove him anywhere, which didn’t happen very often (such as a cab or a bus on occasion), and wore ridiculous motion-sickness bracelets that were supposed to, in his words, “prevent barfing”. He wore black silky or fuzzy pyjamas when the two of them watched movies together in Crowley’s flat.

He was ambidextrous, and easily bored, and not very romantically experienced. While Az loved labels and had called himself first homosexual, then a gay man when the language developed, Crowley (while also male-identifying) treated sexuality and gender expression like a buffet. (“Skirts for girls and trousers for boys? The things these humans come up with. No one cares in Hell, what does it _matter_ here? When you’re stricter than Hell or Heaven combined, there’s a problem.”)

And Az supposed Crowley was beginning to know him as well, though he couldn’t think what off the top of his head. The fact that he hated cooked carrots? That his favourite colour was green?

Mostly he was still too hard to sleep and thinking about Crowley so much had not helped the situation one bit.

He closed his eyes and began the task. He could always miracle it away of course, if he really wanted to, but some things were better done the old-fashioned way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m away w/family at the moment so might not update for a while. Also not been doing so fantastic in the mental health department so another reason why there may be a short hiatus. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this nonsense!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more of our OC's, if you like that sort of thing. Next time should be a Crowley chapter, maybe day after tomorrow if I get the chance. Thanks so much for reading and all your guy's support! Love you folks

The ducks in the pond swam and quacked, as ducks do. Nothing at all unusual about these ducks at all. One waddled up to a man in a long black coat and accepted a piece of bread. A particularly large mallard contemplated challenging a swan for dominance of the pond, but appeared to think better of it. 

A woman with long black hair and a type of tight, black pantsuit outfit sauntered into St James' Park, where as everybody knows secret agents have been meeting in various degrees of covertness for the better part of a century. These two particular secret agents really weren't very good at it really. 

She sat down primly on an empty park bench and crossed one slim leg atop the other. She seemed very reserved and very ill-at-ease with herself in many ways. She was nervous, and very conscious of being nervous, but she was doing her best to hide it. She wore sunglasses to hide her unnaturally green eyes, when uncovered they were like looking into two literal emeralds. The especially trained observer would have noticed two pure black feathered wings emerging from her blazer, but everyone walking by in the park seemed to let their eyes slide over her without retaining anything unusual or odd. People never notice the things that shouldn't be there, or that they simply don't want to see. 

After a few minutes, a little young man with a shock of red hair and an expressive, kindly face bumbled into the park. He was a very strange person, for many reasons, the main one being that he just sort of exuded a comfortable sort of goodness that seeped into everything around him. While most people smiled with their mouths and faces, he seemed to smile with his whole aura. However, there was a kind of sadness to him, the very singular and individually particular sort of sadness that comes from being an angel of love and romance who doesn't have a peanut's amount of control over his own love life. When he was in love, everyone around him felt it except for himself and the other person; he wouldn't know how to be sensible about his feelings if someone gave him an instruction manual. 

He looked round inquisitively, smiling benevolently at the various squirrels and ducks that he passed, before sighting the winged woman and giving her an overexcited wave. She didn't seem to notice. He marched up to her and sat down next to her, letting his shorter limbs sprawl around him in a relaxed, comfortable way. The aforementioned observer might also have noticed his whitish-silvery feathered wings that sprouted from his shoulders, though he wore a more casual ripped jeans and loose red T-shirt. 

"Māra!" he greeted her warmly. "How are things?" 

"As usual, Anael," she said, reservedly. "Keeping an eye on our....friends." 

The angel made a face. "I wish you wouldn't be so mysterious, it makes what we're doing sound so _sinister_. All this cloak-and-dagger stuff, it's a bit ridiculous, isn't it devil? They _are_ our friends! Or will be. After the job's done, I don't see why not. Friendship is wonderful, don't know how people get on without it. Hear from your side?" 

"Beelzebub." She grimaced. "Just said to stick with it, make regular reports. No action required yet, thank- well not goodness. Thank hellishness? Odd human expressions, they don't really translate well for our purposes." 

"True. Same on my side," he added. "Well, shouldn't waste the day, should we? Lunch? I owe you one from Greece, 1970 was it?"

"I believe so." She shifted in her seat. "I understand I didn't leave you on the best of terms last time. I would apologize, but it wouldn't be very demonic of me."

"You are a very polite demon, devil," he said affectionately. Even the word 'devil' sounded much more affectionate than in the usual sense, like a term of endearment he'd invented just for her. 

She made a sort of pinched, prim expression. "We are on the same page, aren't we? Neither of us wants to keep those two apart, but that doesn't mean we can or should follow their example. Just causes problems, in the long run. And when you're immortal, well. It's _all_ long run all the time. I am a _demon_ , you are an _angel_. It's a bit ridiculous to think that anything could work, isn't it? You just go too fast sometimes, there isn't any need to rush."

"Of course. Lunch?" His expression was more guarded, his eyes closing off somewhere internally. She nodded, and they left as close as possible to being arm in arm without actually touching. 

The ducks quacked loudly and impatiently, watching the pair go. They were so completely beyond sick of watching people who were very much in love pretend not to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do, do it with style.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you in part by: Crowley's Low Self-Esteem

Crowley glanced at Aziraphale out of the corner of his eye.

They were, for a change, in Aziraphale’s flat. Crowley had only been here once or twice to drop off a book or pick one up, because usually they hung around the shop or Crowley’s flat, which was just down the road from the florist’s. They were here tonight because Aziraphale had suggested it. It made Crowley strangely nervous to be in Az’s space like this.

Just now they were drinking wine in Az’s comfortable armchairs and talking pleasantly.

Earlier that day they had gone to lunch in some little café across from the shop that they had never been to before. The food hadn’t been great (Crowley was still getting used to eating), but the look on Az’s face when Crowley had waved his hand to change the music had been worth it. The forced saccharinely cheerful pop song had been replaced with “Wedding Song”, followed by “When the Chips are Down” (Crowley preferred it on shuffle sometimes, though you got a heart-wrenching combination the odd time. He still remembered the time “All I’ve Ever Known” was followed by “Doubt Comes In”.) The other patrons didn’t seem to notice anything odd had happened.

“What?” Crowley had asked innocently. “You like this song. I think Top 40 Radio was one of ours, probably Hastur’s idea. He’s got no imagination.”

Az looked sheepish. “Actually it’s one of my side’s. Top 40 Radio was supposed to create harmony, everybody listening to the same thing. Backfired rather horribly I gathered.”

In any case Az had invited him over for a drink after the shop closed up, and Crowley was ridiculously nervous. He only hoped Az couldn’t tell. He took a big gulp of wine.

“What do you know about me?” Az asked suddenly. Crowley choked.

“What?” he spluttered.

Az looked embarrassed. “It’s just- We’re still getting to know one another. I was just wondering what you knew about me so far. It seems to me I know much more about you than the other way round.”

Crowley tried to keep his expression neutral, and tried to select his words carefully. He was in fact trying very hard. 

No need to let Aziraphale in on the fact that Crowley knew absolutely everything from how he liked his tea to what he thought of each and every customer that came in. Yes, Crowley liked to think he knew it all, unfortunately except for Az’s feelings. Those were kept well hidden, he thought bitterly, if they really existed at all. After all, why should the angel care? Crowley on the other hand- Well Az must know, mustn’t he? Crowley hadn’t exactly been subtle.

“Crowley?” Az asked tentatively, breaking his drunken train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh right. Well,” Crowley began, then once he started it was hard to stop, “I know that you’re fussy, and everything has to be just so, but it’s your own sort of ‘just so’, meaning that to everyone else there’s just a cluttered mess but you know where everything is. You like calligraphy, and you keep parchment and posh pens but you don’t use them. You always eat two tangerines at some point throughout the day. You like comfort and nice food and expensive wine, and you always wear your housecoat like now in the evenings or at my place but never slippers, so your feet are always freezing. You’re a book collector, and a plant-spoiler, and a snake-fearer. You like it when things are the way they’re supposed to be, but you can’t stick to a proper routine. And you care so much, all the time, about everything. S’all rather irritating really,” Crowley finished, trying to brush it all off as annoyance at having to put up with Aziraphale’s little quirks, but he figured he probably wasn’t a very convincing actor.

“Oh, _Crowley_.” Az’s eyes were glistening.

“Yeah, yeah, shuttup angel,” Crowley said fondly. He got up to go put his empty glass in the sink. Aziraphale followed him.

“You really are the _nicest_ -”

All at once Crowley was pushing Az against the wall, overcome by sudden furious and burning anger. “I am not nice, I’m never _nice_ , I’m a creature of Hell and don’t forget it.” His sunglasses were slipping down his face, so Crowley was staring directly into Aziraphale’s eyes. He expected to see fear, and saw only a bit of concern, which somehow made him angrier. “Satan knows I’ll protect you to the death but I’m not a pet demon. I’m not _tame_. I’m not nice. I’m evil and dangerous and unforgivable and you should leave while you still can before you get hurt.”

He shoved Az again and pulled away. “I should go.”

“ _Crowley_.”

Aziraphale was unlike how Crowley had ever seen him before. He was cold, and calmly furious. “I’m not letting you leave like this.” He took the demon’s hand, his grip firm enough that Crowley couldn’t easily pull it away. “Now I’m sorry that you got the wrong impression. I never thought of you as some sort of pet demon, I know what you are. But you’re wrong. You’re not evil just because you’re a demon, and by human standards you really are a _good_ person. You tempt, and hurt, and cause petty annoyances and occasionally encourage real bad deeds, but not horrendously evil ones. Never bigotry, or genocide, or torture, or even real cruelty beyond someone cutting in front of you in line or stealing your favourite possessions. Never that. Those belong to humanity. So if you’ve got yourself convinced that as a demon you must be pure evil and as an angel I’m pure good, I really must tell you that you’re a complete _idiot_ , dear boy. And _would you please take those wretched sunglasses off!_ ”

Crowley swallowed hard. There was some sort of emotion in his throat and chest, what a nuisance. He set the sunglasses aside, leaving them on the countertop. “I think I should kiss you now.”

“Yes,” Az said, the avenging angel suddenly looking rather pleased. “I think you really must.” 

And he did. And he didn't leave Az's flat until the next morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two idiots
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment! Niceness not mandatory.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is afoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo guys! We got some Ineffable Bureaucracy fresh from the oven. Hope you like it ❤️

Gabriel (not the Archangel Gabriel) leant over in the hotel’s large and comfortable bed and gave Beelzebub (not Lord Beelzebub) a gentle kiss on the forehead while they were sleeping. (As the respective seconds-in-command of rival organizations, they found it was best to compartmentalize. They occasionally had to act against one another in accordance with the Great Plan, but that was just a job.) They were exhausted after several hours of vigorous sex, and had collapsed in an intertwined heap on top of the covers. Gabriel snagged a throw blanket off the armchair and draped it over them. 

They had met like this in countless hotels and inns throughout the centuries, never staying anywhere longer than a night. There were days when Gabriel thought about retiring and getting a cottage somewhere with them, far away from humanity and all the annoyances that came with it.

Gabriel never slept. Beelzebub did little else when they could afford to take a holiday (Hell gave out generous vacation days when you got promoted as far Down as they had). They were in agreement about how vile the human practices of eating and drinking were when you didn’t need them (like pouring lard into a sports car or expecting it to run on soup instead of fuel) but sleep was where they disagreed. Other than that, the two supernatural entities led a very happy life together. It was working pretty well so far too.

They’d gotten together Before the Beginning, hit it off, and had had a sensible friends-with-benefits situation going for quite some time until they’d decided to just pack it in and get married. They were both very efficient like that. They were just coming up on their six-thousand-five-hundred-and-eighty-first anniversary next June. Gabriel thought he’d try and surprise Bee with a picnic on Jupiter to celebrate. The weather was lovely there that time of year.

Gabriel didn’t know why Beelzebub liked to sleep so much. _Must be a demon thing_ , he surmised, taking into account recent intelligence on the demon Crowley. _Is Bee even a demon? They’re Lord of the Flies, but does it count as being a demon?_

Just then Beelzebub stirred against Gabriel’s side. If Gabriel had had a heart, it would have metaphorically melted at the sight of their cute little scrunched-up face. “What time izzzzzzzzz it?” they mumbled into Gabriel’s bare chest.

“5am,” he replied briskly. “The alarm won’t go off for another hour. You can go back to sleep.”

Beelzebub didn’t bother asking if Gabriel had stayed up all night. They woke themselves up enough to think, but didn’t bother sitting up or moving at all. Gabriel was comfortable to lie down on. “What’s the latest intel on your end?”

“According to Anael, the angel of love we assigned to the case, they’re definitely together,” Gabriel rattled off matter-of-fact. “So with any luck we can call it a job well done and finally stop wasting our time.”

“I hear that. Did you ever find out why it wazzzz assigned in the first place?”

Gabriel shrugged as best as he could without disturbing Beelzebub. “I just know that they were apparently supposed to meet six thousand years ago, but through some kind of cosmic screw-up Hell sent Crowley up a day before Aziraphale got down there. He did his temptation, Aziraphale showed up, ran after the humans and gave them that sword. He still thinks we don’t know, do you believe it? Anyway, they were both called out on other assignments after that and their predetermined meeting took a backseat. The plans of Hell always carry the seeds of their own destruction.”

“My sourcezzz agree,” Bee replied, “Except of course it was Heaven’s fault.”

“Of course.” Gabriel said sarcastically, or as close to it as the literal-minded angel could manage. “Don’t see why it’s so important, but apparently the order comes all the way from the top. What can you do.”

“Ridiculouz matchmaking,” Beelzebub muttered through a yawn. “Some people can’t get their shit together.”

“It’s ineffable I guess,” Gabriel said with a glance heavenward. “By the way, I think my contact is fraternizing with yours.”

“Ehhh, leave it alone,” Beelzebub dismissed with a lazy wave of their hand that caught Gabriel on the nose. “Oopzzz, sorry. But never mind them. They’re underlingzzz, what does it matter?”

“You’re right, as usual.” Gabriel leaned down again to tilt their head up for a kiss on the lips. A contented buzzing filled his ears as their lips met and he hummed back in a pleased sort of way. “Go back to sleep, Bee.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fluffy I’m scared for the well-being of your teeth. Please brush and floss after reading to manage the sugar

Aziraphale woke up that morning next to Crowley for the first time ever. Hopefully the first of many.

Before he woke up completely he didn’t quite process it, the demon asleep in his bed, curled up in a ball on the edge of the mattress, but when his brain remembered what had happened last night his face broke out into an uncontrollable beaming smile. 

He slid close to the demon, resenting that he was so far away, and wrapped an arm around his middle to pull him back to the angel’s side of the bed. 

“Mnfff.” Crowley curled into the angel’s body without waking up. He wrapped an arm possessively over the angel’s chest in his sleep, burying his face deeper under the covers. Aziraphale rested his chin on top of the demon’s head, loving how soft Crowley’s hair was. He ran his fingers through it a few times, luxuriously savouring the feeling of it under his hands. 

Aziraphale glanced at the antique carriage clock on his nightstand, grimacing when he saw the time, and kissed Crowley’s bare shoulder. He did it again, more insistently. “Crowley,” he said softly. 

“ _Mnffff_.” 

“Time to wake up. It’s already nine, we’re late opening the shop.” 

“Fuck,” Crowley mumbled into the angel’s chest. 

“Done that already, dear,” Aziraphale laughed. 

“S’too early. Too comfortable.” Crowley shifted until he was behind the angel in ‘big spoon’ mode, wrapping his long limbs around Aziraphale’s soft waist and refusing to let go. He kissed the angel’s shoulder-blades, right overtop where his wings would be. 

Aziraphale shivered. He wrapped Crowley’s arms around himself more firmly to keep warm. “Alright,” he conceded. “The shop will be closed today. The customers will just have to go without. Are the reptiles alright there alone?” 

Crowley snapped his fingers without opening his eyes. “Now they are. The broom will feed them and water the plants. Hopefully it won’t use its new arms to rob the cash register.” 

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale grabbed his arm and kissed the inside of the demon’s wrist, savouring the little sleepy pleased noises he made. “Whatever shall we do to occupy ourselves in my flat all day? Just the two of us? Can you think of anything?” 

“ _Sleep_ ,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale chuckled. 

***** 

Across the city, another angel and another demon were having a very different conversation. They had also spent the night drinking and talking and had also woken up in bed together, but that was where the resemblance ended. 

“It was a mistake,” Māra said desperately. “It’s all wrong, we shouldn’t be doing this. I have to leave-“ She sat on the edge of the bed wrapped in her dressing gown, as far away from Anael as it was possible to be. They couldn’t be together. They were an angel and a demon. It was so _obviously_ wrong, so- 

“Stop it,” Anael said, not unkindly. He tried to focus on her instead and hide how hurt he was. “I can feel how stressed you are. May I?” She hesitated, then gave him her hand, letting him rub the tension away. He moved up her arms to her shoulders. 

She shivered. “ _Anael-“_

“Is this okay?” 

“Don’t stop.” 

He sat up behind her, moving her long hair out of the way and gently kissing the back of her neck. He slid the sleeves her dressing gown down her arms, revealing black tattoos spiralling down her back. He traced them reverently with gentle fingertips. 

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave,” he murmured. “If you never want to see me again, fine. But I’m in love with you, I love you, I always have and I always will. However long you’ll have me. I’m willing to wait for as long as you need, but you have to know that I am so _completely_ in love with you.” 

Māra felt tears come to her eyes. She’d lost the power to feel other people’s love after she had Fallen, but she could feel Anael’s like a warm blanket over her shoulders. “I love you too, so much, too much, but we can’t. I don’t want you to Fall too,” she whispered. 

“I’m not going to darling,” Anael said, his voice touched with concern. “Is that what you’ve been worrying about all this time?” 

Māra nodded. She spun around and kissed him deeply, pinning him back against the bed under her and holding his arms over his head. He made a noise into their mouths. “I love you,” she murmured against his lips in between kisses. “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for, dearest.” 

“Don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I won’t.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!❤️


	11. Chapter 11

Crowley was enjoying himself, some might say a little too much. But who was he not to? He was with a remarkably beautiful (in every sense of the word) angel who for some absurd reason actually liked him enough to keep him around. He was so far beyond enjoying it the humans needed to invent a new word.

Or perhaps they already had.

Yes, Crowley was _besotted_ , but wasn’t it too early for that word? He didn’t want to go faster than the angel was willing. Didn’t want to scare him off. Crowley knew if he did that he’d never forgive himself.

The demon kissed Aziraphale right on the lips in the middle of the shop. It was still insane to him that he could do that now, make Zira splutter and blush and push him away with that little smile Crowley was so fond of. Aziraphale was who Crowley was-Fond of. Aziraphale at the shop, during lunches, at his flat, at the angel’s flat, in the angel’s bed. Kissing him. There were lots of things that couples did together that the two of them did: hold hands, argue, bicker, talk to, make love to, but kissing was Crowley’s favourite.

The angel _had_ to know, Crowley knew he wasn’t as subtle about it as he would’ve liked to be. Aziraphale had to have known.

But he didn’t, as Crowley would find out shortly.

The angel had invited him to his flat after the shop closed for the night, something they did often now, but he’d seemed especially nervous for whatever reason. And he’d offered to cook Crowley supper (in the hopes of getting him to eat something, Crowley surmised). _AND_ he’d let Crowley play his music, the kind of music the angel sniffed at and (wrongly) called ‘bebop’. So Crowley should have been suspicious, but he wasn’t.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale began, putting down his fork and taking a large sip from his wine glass.

“Wha’?” Crowley said with his mouth half full. He’d only taken a small portion, but Aziraphale made fantastic chicken with lemon and garlic, and it was delectable. He almost understood why the angel ate the stuff. Food, he meant. Normally Crowley thought it was like trying to feed tomato sauce to a hummingbird; they didn’t need it and it would only weigh them down. But the whole food business was really starting to appeal to him-

“ _Crowley_!”

Crowley blinked. “Sorry angel. What was that?”

“I just said that- that we’d been seeing each other for a while now,” he said exasperatedly. “Wouldn’t you say?”

Crowley shrugged. “I mean it’s been a few months I suppose since our first date,” he said, thinking it over, “About another month or so since we first slept together?”

“Quite.” The angel took another bite of his food. Crowley adored the way he savoured it with a little wiggle of the shoulders. “Anyhow I know it’s not long by immortal standards, and we’re on different sides-”

“We’re on our own side, angel,” Crowley said with uncharacteristic softness.

The angel’s eyes all of a sudden looked a bit wet in the light. “To being on our own side,” he said, clinking his glass against Crowley’s. “What was I saying?”

“No idea. “

Az gave him a sharp look. He glanced down at his empty plate. “Oh dear. I didn’t mean to eat all of that.”

“What’s the difference? It’s delicious.” Crowley took another big bite.

“Yes, but you’re so thin no matter what you eat. I’m afraid I’m getting a bit....soft. Around the middle.”

Crowley scoffed. “Hardly.”

“You’re very kind, but it’s true.” The angel seemed resigned. Crowley wanted nothing more than to get rid of that sad expression on the angel’s face.

“Look,” Crowley began, “You do realize that your body is amazing, right?” The angel scoffed and blushed. “It’s true! S’much nicer corporation than mine, mine’s so skin-and-bones-y. Comes from being a snake, you get stuck like that.”

“A what?”

“Oh in the Garden I mean, I tempted Eve. Anyway, I love your body. I should know if it’s amazing or not, I’m ridiculously attracted to you after all. You know that I’m in love with you for you, but it _definitely_ doesn’t hurt that-”

“You what?” Aziraphale said in a strangled voice. “You- _you’re_ not in.. you can’t be...”

Crowley felt his heart rate double. He didn’t bother asking if Aziraphale felt the same way, he wasn’t sure he could handle the polite refusal he was sure to get from him tonight. “I thought- I thought you knew.”

He seized Aziraphale’s wine glass and drained it, making a face at the bitter taste. He wished he had his sunglasses on right now. He felt too blessed vulnerable without them there to hide his face.

“Crowley _dear_.” Aziraphale covered Crowley’s hand with his. “Why do you think I made you a romantic supper in my home? Why do you think I spend as much time around you as humanly...or I suppose angelically possible? Dear boy, I couldn’t bear to be away from you. I love you so, _so_ much Crowley. I don’t know how not to at this point so I’m rather afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“ _Angel_.” Crowley thought his heart might burst. “S’not that bad when you get used to it,” he joked.

The angel quirked his mouth derisively. It made Crowley want to kiss him, so he did. Some things were just that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ❤️   
> Just the last chapter to go, but I’m planning on it being a long-ass epilogue. Stay tuned!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh it's the last chapter ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
> 
> (also pretty heavily implied sexual content with Ineffable Bureaucracy so proceed with caution)
> 
> this is so sappy and fluffy ahhhhhhhhhhhh

1.

Mara nervously watched from her perch on the edge of the sofa as Anael moved his boxes one by one into her small studio flat. She was such a closet slob, especially compared with how fastidiously she dressed and presented herself, but Anael didn’t seem to mind the mess. He wasn’t overly tidy either after all.

He looked good in his excessively casual clothes, ripped and faded jeans and an elderly T-shirt (a _favourite_ shirt, she corrected herself, remembering how often it had made an appearance over the years). She liked how his clothes fit him, it suited his style. He caught her eye and winked, making her face heat up. She turned away from him and adjusted her tight bun in the mirror, replacing hairpins where necessary and demonically-miracling away any disobedient frizz. She smiled when she saw him enter the reflection and wrap his arms around her waist.

“You look beautiful,” said the angel of love. If Mara had had a heart it might’ve melted.

“Thank you,” she said shyly. “So do you.”

He kissed her cheek fondly, then her neck. Mara might’ve lost the angelic ability to sense love after her Fall but she could feel Anael’s love clear as night. Maybe it was his angelic power, especially considering the job description of an angel put on Earth to spread love. It radiated off of him and enveloped her in its warmth, like sitting by a fire of a cool evening. They made a nice picture together, light and darkness side by side.

She spun around suddenly and kissed him properly, relishing how he let her take the lead, how this beautiful innocent angel allowed a demon like her to touch him. She backed him up against the nearest wall, keeping the kiss chaste enough (she wasn’t trying to start anything now, they had dinner reservations) but wanting just to cover the little angel with her body. She brought her wings onto the physical plane and let them wrap around them both protectively. Anael nipped her lower lip suddenly and broke the kiss to kiss her cheek instead, then the tip of her nose. Her cheeks flushed again, making her stoop to hide her face in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” he said simply.

“I love you too,” she returned after a moment. Expressing her emotions was still difficult, but she wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Wasn’t afraid that Anael would Fall by being with her, wasn’t afraid of corrupting his goodness, wasn’t afraid of not deserving his love. She decided to say it. “I’m not afraid of any of it anymore, I just want to be with you.”

2.

Anael smiled so wide when she said that. He could feel himself start glowing, an angelic quality he hadn’t fully controlled yet (being as he was much younger than say Aziraphale or Gabriel) and as the angel of love in particular he found hard to hide. Of course, here with Mara he didn’t have to. He didn’t ever want to hide from her. He let himself relax into her embrace, enveloped by her heavy black wings.

“We work very well together you know, as immortals I mean,” he added when she looked up at him perplexedly. “The angel of love and sexuality with the demon of rebirth and desire. Quite the team.”

“Demon of death as well,” Mara muttered.

“And is death not a natural part of life?” He punctuated his question with a kiss to her collarbone (being so short he was the perfect height for it). “Nothing to fear from death, especially not when it’s you. And I have to repeat that you do look so _lovely_ today, Mara.” 

She really did. She always dressed in professional businesswomen’s clothing, usually black or dark blue, but today she wore a very put-together little skirt/blouse outfit that he didn’t quite understand fashion-wise but definitely appreciated.

“We’ll look a bit odd together at the restaurant though,” he added, looking down to assess his own outfit. He liked to look casual but he was treading the line between relaxed and scruffy. Gabriel certainly wouldn’t approve.

Mara tutted at him. “You look perfect,” she murmured, looking at him for a moment with those luminous full eyes of hers before placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. He wanted to melt.

3.

Gabriel kissed Beelzebub heatedly after their…..amorous activities. As angels went he really _wasn’t_ a prude, but it was such a _human_ thing and it made him a bit squeamish to talk or think about it. It was pretty excellent when it was in-progress though.

He miracled away any unpleasant bodily fluids (sweat, et cetera) and brushed Bee’s hair away from their face. They were just so Satan-damned _pretty_.

“You look sentimental all of a sudden,” Beelzebub said warily, but they leaned up from underneath Gabriel to kiss him again.

“I love my spouse,” he said grouchily. “Is that a crime?”

“Nope,” they said, popping the ‘p’ wetly. “I would know, being in charge of that sort of thing.” They kissed him again, the filthily obscene sort of kiss they knew Gabriel wanted but was too embarrassed to ask for. “Love you too,” they said casually.

“Got a big anniversary coming up,” Gabriel said sometime during Round Two. He spoke against their skin as he kissed his way down their body.

“Is that so?” Be drawled. Gabriel ~~admired~~ hated how composed they were when the two of them were like this. When Bee did this to him, he was an incoherent mess. “Any big plans? It is _your_ turn.”

“I’m aware.” It came out a bit garbled. He lifted his head to speak properly. “It’s a surprise. You gotta be good or Santa won’t come.”

“Not him I’m worried about com-”

“Okay- uh, well, um-” Gabriel cut himself off, flustered, and went back to….uh…..what he’d been doing. 

4.

Beelzebub caressed Gabriel’s hair fondly. They really weren’t the sentimental type, especially during sex, but the couple really didn’t get as much alone time as either of them would’ve liked what with their ambitious careers and they wanted to touch Gabriel as much as possible while they had him.

“Let’s see,” they planned aloud even as they rocked their hips up to meet Gabriel’s mouth. “You finish eating me out, I’ll blow you for a bit, maybe make a few phone calls after. Although I suppose I could do it now.” They had always prided themselves on their composure. It wouldn’t have been the first time they’d multitasked (Bee got off on the idea of being caught and they loved how easily embarrassed Gabriel was).

Gabriel lifted his head to glare at them. “Could you be _any_ cruder?”

“I could, yeah,” they retorted. “Shall I? Ahhh-” They broke off as Gabriel worked his mouth with a bit more finesse (centuries of practice) and finally got them to lose some of their composure. They could literally _feel_ him smirk. It was maddening ~~endearing.~~ “Oh I forgot to tell you: the Lower-Downs (higher-ups?) have spoken. I’m being demoted in a few months. In the Hell sense obviously I mean, I suppose Up There they say something else.”

“I’m being promoted too,” Gabriel said a few minutes later, after Bee had come under his tongue. He frowned. “Means we’ll see even less of each other.”

Bee rolled their eyes and yanked Gabriel up for another filthy kiss. “We’ll make it work. We love each other, don’t we?”

“Such a closet romantic,” Gabriel teased. “Guess we’ve lasted this long, it would take more than a job to split us up.”

Beelzebub hesitated uncharacteristically. “I suppose we could both turn it down?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “You would do that? I know how much that job means to you.”

“Once you’re a Lord it doesn’t much matter who’s Below you,” Bee said with a shrug. “And don’t act so surprised. You’re so stupid sometimes for an Archangel. Don’t you know by now I’d do anything for you?”

Gabriel’s face softened. Bee loved that they were the only one who saw him like this. “And I would do anything for you,” said the Archangel protectively.

“Fuck me then.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Crude demon.”

5.

Aziraphale kissed Crowley lovingly, barely more than a peck since they were in the shop but enough to get a good taste.

He was puttering around watering the plants (and giving little words of encouragement to counteract the demon’s abuse) while Crowley counted the bills in the register and prepared to close up for the night. They usually gave the money to homeless shelters or animal rescues since they didn’t need the money anyway. Aziraphale stole a look at the demon out of the corner of his eye. He looked exhausted.

The angel narrowed his eyes as he snuck another look, this time for a different reason. “Is that my cardigan?”

Crowley jumped as he flipped the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ (it was Aziraphale who had stopped him from setting it to ‘bugger off’, though the angel was a bit of a hypocrite considering how he’d behaved towards customers in his bookshop days). Crowley looked a bit guilty as he pulled the sleeves of the sweater over his hands. “It’s comfortable. _Warm_. Soft.” He looked over at the angel with pleading eyes. 

Az sniffed, returning to his task. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he said begrudgingly. He didn’t need to look up to know Crowley was smirking.

“So I can keep it?” Crowley clapped a hand over his heart. “Angel, I’m touched.”

“Oh shuttup you,” Az said fondly. He set down the plant mister (labelled ‘Property of A J Crowley’, something Az had teased him about relentlessly and jokingly talked about getting tattooed) and sat down in Crowley’s swivel chair behind the counter. He helped himself to the box of chocolates he kept there just in case. “You’re such a nuisance. I don’t even like you.”

“Oh you _do_.” The demon’s voice was soft. He leant over the counter across from Aziraphale and tilted his face up to him invitingly. Az rolled his eyes and obliged with a quick peck to his cheekbone.

He lingered to stroke through Crowley’s elaborately styled hair and, once Crowley assented, removing his sunglasses. “That’s better,” he said under his breath. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“You’re such a sap,” Crowley pretended to scold him. “You’d have me curled up by the fire with a cup of tea and a book if you had your way.”

“Are you asking me to have my way with you?” Az attempted to flirt, blushing horribly and being anything but smooth.

“You can have me any way you want, angel,” Crowley said softly, finally dropping the act. Aziraphale beamed. 

6.

Crowley had his head in Aziraphale’s lap in bed at the demon’s flat, the angel playing with his hair while he read. Crowley was on the verge of actual purring, that was how much of a total soppy mess he was now. And he’d be lying if he said he minded.

When he thought about it, yes he was a poor demon but Aziraphale made an abysmal angel. Aziraphale was indulgent, and genuinely kind, and gluttonous, and brave, and wonderfully flawed in a million different was that made Crowley fall in love with him even more every day. They were slowly but surely moving away from their respective sides and getting closer to meeting in the middle. It was _wonderful_ , and maybe that was an Aziraphale-word but it felt good to be genuine with someone. With Az there was no more need for any barriers. He was the only person Crowley really trusted, and certainly the only one he never (or hardly ever) felt the need to hide from. He didn’t bother thanking god, there wasn’t much use in praying as a demon. There especially needed to be belief and faith behind the action rather than certainty and beseeching. Believing in Someone who you know exists and doesn’t like you very much isn’t really having faith. Crowley wouldn’t bother anyway seeing as there’s no point when you know for sure a god exists and is just simply ignoring you. 

(But he thanked the World anyway.) 

Crowley sat up suddenly, making Az startled, then stretched his back and shoulders luxuriously.

He could sense Az wincing when his joints popped, cracking his neck and back and shoulders and hips and reaching into a toe-touching stretch. As an afterthought, Crowley snapped his fingers and felt his spiky short hair suddenly sliding glossily over his shoulders and upper back. He looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale, who had already been watching him stretch and appreciating his flexibility.

“Please?” Crowley said hopefully.

It took Az a moment to understand, but when he did he set down his book and reading glasses and gestured over to him. “Oh all right,” the angel acquiesced, “Just this once.” They both knew it was a great big lie.

Crowley settled back and let his eyes fall closed as Aziraphale played with his newly grown red hair, summoning a brush from the dresser without getting up and tugging it through Crowley’s curls. This little act just on its own was so intimate, a bond that Crowley had never allowed with anyone else and needed so perfectly from Aziraphale. He knew Aziraphale liked it when Crowley let him see him like this too, knew the angel appreciated it when Crowley let his walls come down. Crowley sighed contentedly when the angel began to braid.

He thought idly about asking Aziraphale to move in with him, or perhaps the other way round, but that was another discussion for another night. After all, they had eternity ahead of them. They could have all the time they needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks as always for all the support! love you folks!  
> thanks for reading and please don't hesitate to comment they make me very very very happy


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